Coffee Temptation

We meet for coffee. Coffee is always fun. There is people watching, chatter and possibility. You arrive first and scout out the place - where's the best place to sit? You find a corner where we can take on the unknowing world. One that is tucked away, but close enough to pass the occasional 'casual' touch, whisper and conspiracy.

I enter the place and scan the room, smiling when I see where you've chosen. It's just where I would choose. You smile as I come over and slide into the seat. Now the game begins. You see, we are just friends... Although anyone that sees that glint in your eyes might think otherwise. We know how to tease. We offer temptation. But we are just friends.

Now we're seated I take some time to admire you. You're wearing a shirt, which you know I enjoy, but today it is open and flapping revealing a t-shirt. My mind wanders, lamenting getting to watch each button pop open and showcase some flesh, but an idea enters my mind. You see my smile and your expression changes. Questioning? I just smile and shrug. For now.

We amuse ourselves as we drink our coffee. Who in the coffee shop do we think is kinky? Who can we imagine wearing a butt plug under their clothes as they drink coffee with their colleagues? Then we start with the fantasies, who would tweak my nipples best? What would they whisper in my ear as they did it? Who would be most likely to spread their legs and beg you to go down on them?

Now it's time to put the plan into action.

"I need your shirt," I say. You look at me, a bit bewildered. I wait.

"You're serious?" you question. I smile. Of course I'm serious! You know better. Still it takes you a while to catch up. "Is there any point in asking why?"

I meet your gaze and see you're already resigned to playing the game; even as you asked the question. You slide the shirt from your shoulders and hand it over. My face lights up. I love it when we play.

"What are the rules?" You murmur, and I can see that you're feeling the same. Your mind is racing. Why do I need the shirt? What's going to happen next? Your breathing has quickened and you're hiding a smile. This is going to be fun.

"You don't need to do anything. Just keep your phone close by and enjoy." I bite my lip as your grip on your phone tightens and you keep glancing at it. What delights will it soon hold?

I slip on your shirt over my top. It's comfy (as stolen clothes often are) and it smells exactly like you. I settle into it and calm myself down. Don't get too excited too soon, the fun is in the tease. We both enjoy that. Feeling temptation build and seeing how far the rules can be pushed without being broken. This is the game.

As you're fussing with your phone, you notice me settling into your shirt. You smile. How come clothes always look hotter when you see them on someone else? You like how I act in it. How comfy and cosy I seem whilst imagining your arms enveloping me - maybe you will let me keep it.

I leave the table and go towards the toilets. I can feel myself getting wet as I get closer, just the thought of enacting my plan is getting me excited. I hope it tempts you just as much as it excites me.

Once there I make quick work removing my clothes and then slipping back into your shirt. I send you the first picture: my pile of clothes and the sleeve of your shirt on my arm in shot with the caption 'These were no longer needed'. I wait for your reply before I send the next one.

Next, I snap some photos in your shirt. Who doesn't love a shirt photo? Sleeves rolled up. Minimal buttons done up, just enough to give a hint of breasts but not an actual flash. One leg up making the shirt ride high on my ass... I take my photos and send you the next bunch as a collection with the caption 'I'm thinking of modelling your shirt, what do you think?'

Finally, I enact the last phase of my plan. I lean back against the door and raise my right leg - opening myself up. The anticipation and photo taking has got me worked up. Being open and wet with the world just on the other side of the cubicle door sends a shiver through me. I hold back from touching for just a few more seconds. Catch my breath and take a photo...I want you to see just how tempted I am. And just how teased I want you to be.

I imagine you at our table. Your phone gripped in your hand. Scrolling back and forth through the images I have sent. Your cock straining against your jeans... And that's all it takes for my hand to dip into my juices... circling around my clit, but holding back for now. Building the tease, enjoying the sensations, but in no rush. Yet.

I consider your dilemma, can you subtly rearrange yourself? How suspicious is it if you run your hands over your hardon under the table? Just a little touch to ease the ache? A quandry for sure, and then your phone beeps with another message. A video this time. You fumble for your headphones. Not willing to pass up the potential of sound. It's a good job you did as the slick wetness you can see me tracing is causing the barest of whimpers. You watch your shirt rise and fall with each short breath. Your breathing starts immitating the irratic style of mine, but then the video ends.

Back in the cubicle, my urgency has increased. All pretence of teasing has ended. I'm edging closer and closer to my climax. I wrap your shirt around me tighter and it pulls deliciously across my nipples. I want to share this with you, but I'm so distracted that I keep them short. One video is the repeated murmuring of how desperate I am to cum, the next is my frantic fingers sending wave upon wave of pleasure through me, the penultimate is my face as I desperately bite my lip to keep quiet. You know how difficult I find it to keep quiet. It's written all over my face. Desperation. Wanting to give in, but not trusting myself to do so discreetly. And then it's no longer a choice. The final video. My breasts wriggling free of your shirt, my body racked in tremors, my toes curling and the last whispers of choked pleas fading away.

I send the final video whilst taking a moment to catch my breath and rearrange your shirt around me. Adding my own scent to yours. I smile to myself thinking about how much I always loved your shirts and now how each time you put it on you'll have some extra yummy imagery to go alongside it. Now it's time to redress and rejoin you once more at our table.

The game has finished. For now. You see, we are just friends... who know how to tease. We offer temptation. But we are still just friends.